Enchanted
by missindependent4
Summary: One-Shot.  Harry is attending a ministry ball in honor of the downfall of Voldemort when he sees Draco Malfoy for the first time and has his sights set on him.  Based on the song by Taylor Swift.  AU.  Fluff.


Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, they belong to J.K. Rowling. The song belongs to Taylor Swift.

A/N: Inspired by T. Swift's song, _Enchanted_. I've had this on my mind for a while and the song came on my ipod today and practically begged to be written. I'm currently writing a chapter fic, but I'm not sure when it'll be out or how long it will be, but look forward to it. It's a non-magic fic. Review at the end please!

* * *

><p><em>There I was again tonight<em>

_Forcing laughter, faking smiles_

_Same old tired, lonely place_

_Walls of insincerity_

_Shifting eyes and vacancy_

_Vanished when I saw your face_

_All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you_

_Your eyes whispered "Have we met?"_

_Across the room, your silhouette_

_Starts to make its way to me_

_The playful conversation starts_

_Counter all your quick remarks_

_Like passing notes in secrecy_

_And it was enchanting to meet you_

_All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you_

Harry hated the annual ministry ball held in honor of the defeat of Voldemort. It wasn't just the fact that he had to dress in fancy suits that were too tight and he had to converse with people who he had never met before and who fawned over him like some sort of prized trophy. He hated the fact that they were celebrating the death of someone, no matter how horrible that person had been. Should death ever be celebrated? Harry didn't think so, but he was the one who killed Voldemort and so for the past four years he had been attending this ministry ball where he was always expected to make a speech. After five years he wasn't sure how much variation one could say about the same subject, but nevertheless women always dabbed at their eyes and men clapped heartily as if they were getting geared up for going into battle and the testosterone level had been upped a notch.

Harry let out an audible sigh and Hermione, who was in a blush pink dress and her hair pulled back in a curled up-do glared at him since they were talking to the Minister of France. Thankfully Ron was keeping both the Minster and his wife entertained, although Harry suspected by the way the Minister's wife kept indiscreetly leering at Ron that she was more into redheads than his story about the time how he was lost in the Fontainebleau Forest on an Auror mission where he claimed he had been chased by a giant manticore and had stumbled upon a unicorn. Even Harry had to roll his eyes at that one, but he thought Ron wanted to slip off with the Minister's wife just as much as she wanted to be in Ron's pants.

Green eyes wandered and he came across Luna chatting with Neville and Ginny, who were holding hands. Luna was wearing a bright yellow dress that even Harry, with his own dismal fashion sense, realized clashed terribly with her light hair and the ever-present radish earrings and bottle-top necklace. He recalled asking Luna about them once and she claimed that they "kept the warblers away" and that they were always present on the night of the anniversary ball. What warblers were, Harry had no idea, but he wasn't surprised that something was always present on tonight of all nights.

"If you'll excuse me Minister," Harry interjected kindly with a small bow to him and his wife. Hermione frowned at him, knowing he was just itching to get away. His two best friends knew that if Harry had any choice he would be a hermit where he chose to stay home and continue writing his muggle children's novels on a world that was filled with dragons, vampires, and werewolves and no dark wizards named Voldemort in sight.

"Of course, Meester Potter!" exclaimed the older Frenchman and Harry turned away, setting his eye on the bar where a bottle of firewhiskey would hopefully have his name written all over it. After all, if his fame gave him anything it should be at least a free bottle of firewhiskey.

Harry had his eye firmly set on the bar when he saw Severus Snape approach it along with two men, one with long platinum blonde hair and blue eyes while the other looked like a younger version of the elder, although with shorter hair, gray eyes, and slightly refined features such as a more slender nose and pronounced cheekbones. He was slim, yet his tight tuxedo revealed a fit body that Harry couldn't help but stare at for several seconds longer than was appropriate.

Snape had been instrumental to the downfall of Voldemort, bringing in information for the Order that nobody else was privy to. It was he who gave Harry the final spot and portkey of where Voldemort was hiding out, beginning the Final Battle, so it was no surprise he was here although Harry knew he loathed events like these just as much as Harry.

He wasn't sure who the two blonde men were, but then the younger blonde, who appeared Harry's age, turned and their eyes met. He was sure he felt his heart stumble a moment and the speed of its beating pick up as the blonde quirked an eyebrow in concentration as if trying to figure out if he knew Harry.

The moment was broken when the blonde turned, his back to Harry, but it appeared as if he had said something to Snape and the other gentlemen since they both nodded. The other man grabbed two flutes of champagne before turning around, his eyes immediately finding Harry and, much a like a predator about to stalk its prey, he made his way to him, eyes never leaving Harry's form.

When said man was close enough to Harry that there was very little space in between them (Harry liked to believe that it was because the room was entirely too full of people so naturally they had to be so close, although at the moment there were very few people on the side of room Harry was currently at), he offered one of the flutes of champagne to him.

"A man standing all by himself should never be without a drink," the blonde said in a smooth articulate voice that caressed Harry's mind as he imagined velvet would skin. "In an environment with such oh so upstanding people it would be best if one was not sober."

The part about the upstanding people was said with dripping sarcasm and Harry chuckled, reaching out for the champagne. He held up the champagne in thanks and said, "Well thank you for coming to my aid, although I think I'll need several more of these to get to the not so sober part." They clinked glasses and drank, Harry watching as the other man's adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed the bubbly liquid.

"That can be arranged. I'm Draco Malfoy."

Harry felt as if he had heard the name Malfoy before, but he couldn't quite place it. "Pleasure. Harry Potter."

If Draco had any doubts of who Harry was before then Harry knew the other man knew who he was now, although he said nothing else as to his name beside, "The pleasure is all mine. You know when Severus invited us I think I had expected maybe some sort of dance around a bonfire where perhaps everyone revels about in robes while secretly naked underneath, burning old photos and mementos of Voldemort and the war. I'm sorry to say that this has been quite the disappointment. I see no bonfires, dancing, nor nakedness," at this his eyes lingered momentarily on Harry, causing said man to blush slightly, "although I'd rather not see many people here without clothing." His eyes landed on Minnie Vetrose, an older woman married to a member on the Wizengamot who probably had been at the dessert table the entire evening. Harry followed Draco's line of sight and he laughed for the first time that night.

"Your version of this ball sounds much more thrilling, although you are right. It's quite dismal and I'm sorry that you will not find any bonfires or nakedness. Dancing should be occurring, but too many people here are trying to make a connection and brown nose their way up the social ladder."

Draco sighed dramatically and looked up at the ceiling as if pondering the fates of the Gods above. "That's a shame. Perhaps you and I can slip away later and have our own private party."

Harry, who had been taking a drink of his champagne, managed not to choke on it even as it went down the wrong pipe. He was sure he looked like a complete fool, but Draco's comment had taken him by surprise. The blonde said nothing though and he raised his own flute and gracefully took a drink.

"So you know Snape then?"

Draco nodded and motioned for a waiter to come over to them. He gently took Harry's empty flute and his own and placed it on the gleaming silver tray while Harry grabbed two more for them. When Harry handed the blonde his, their hands touched briefly and Harry wanted to linger, but he knew it wasn't appropriate at the time being.

"Severus is my godfather. After the first war my family moved to France, feeling that it was safer for the time being since nobody knew what happened to Voldemort. We ended up staying there and Severus invited us as his guests this year." Harry was grateful that he didn't say "after you killed Voldemort the first time" and referred to the time as vaguely as possible. He was also impressed that he didn't stutter of Voldemort's name and that Draco was treating him as any other person whereas at least a third of the people at this ball hero-worshiped him. He hated it.

"You must have attended Beauxbatons then?"

"Yes. And you Hogwarts I presume. Actually I know that for a fact since Severus used to complain about your atrocious potion making skills when he wrote or firecalled." They both laughed at this, Harry admitting that his potion making skills had been pretty bad back in the day.

"I'd like to tell you they've improved, but I know they haven't since I have no need for making them. I really don't have the patience for potion making."  
>Harry was aware when Draco ever so subtly moved closer to Harry so that their arms were practically touching. Harry made no move to step away and he relished in the closeness and the smell of warm amber and, if Harry could have given seductiveness a scent, its name would be Draco Malfoy.<p>

"And what do you do now? Obviously nothing to do with Potions." Draco smirked, although it was in good nature and Harry smiled back, explaining that he wrote muggle children's novels.

"I use a penname though," Harry stated and for the first time he referred to his hero status. "I don't want people to know that it's me writing the books."

"Understandable. I'll have to read them sometime." Harry blushed and shook his head.

"You really don't have to say that. They're kids books and well, quite laughable from our point of view since we're wizards and adults, but they don't know that. That's the beauty of reading, especially as a child. You imagine this world that may not exist, but it doesn't matter because in that moment that you are reading the words off the page you are there besides the characters, understanding their emotions, and in a world where anything is possible."

Draco looked at Harry and, dare he describe the look Draco gave him as tender? The blonde's hand brushed against Harry's and Harry stepped even closer.

"That magic of reading a story doesn't have to stop as we get older. I still feel that way sometimes. It's a wondrous thing." Harry nodded in agreement and asked what Draco did. The blonde laughed and Harry couldn't help but smile at the sound of it.

"I was apprenticing with a wizard in Potions in France and just recently received my Masters in it. Besides the fact that Severus invited us here, I'm moving to England to help him open an apothecary and we'll run it together." Harry's heart swelled at the news that Draco was moving here, to England, in the very city that Harry was in. "He retired this past year, you know."

"Yes, I remember. There was a small party for him, although he protested against it throughout the entire thing." Draco laughed again and Harry grinned, remembering Snape's face as he looked like his old dour self, although Harry was pretty sure there had been tears in his eyes even though the older man would never admit it.

"Ah yes, I remember him writing to me about it after it happened. I think he was secretly pleased if you ignored all his moaning and complaining over it. That's just his way of showing his appreciation." Harry had found out that Snape did not take kind gestures with ease, but he just put it down to the fact that was how the man was.

The two talked some more of various things, every once in a while commenting on a passer-by such as how Monica Slatterbee's, the owner of _Witch Weekly_, underwear was visible through her white skirt and how the Ambassador of Italy was totally sloshed, evening spilling some of his drink on the Minster of Magic's daughter's dress. They would brush up against each other none too casually, both knowing they were flirting with each other, but never saying words out loud, and they were only interrupted when Hermione came bounding over, looking in a huff and red in the face which was quite the contrast with her pale pink dress.

"Harry! There you are!" she cried exasperatedly, looking at Draco curiously. "The Minister has been frantically looking for you! You have to give your speech in five minutes!"  
>"All right, Hermione," Harry said with a nod, although his eyes were locked on Draco's. "I'll be there in just a minute."<p>

"Harry," began the brunette woman.

"Hermione. I promise. Can you give us a moment, please?" He finally turned his eyes towards Hermione, pleading with her, and Hermione, knowing that Harry had never shown an interest like this before in anybody, nodded her head and walked off.

"I'm sorry. I have to go," Harry stated obviously.

"Ah, yes. I'm sure you'll do wonderful."

Harry gave a distracted and instinctive nod, although his eyes were searching Draco's, asking 'Will we see each other again? Please not let this be the only time.'

"Thank you for allowing me to consume up so much of your time tonight. It was wonderful talking with you," Draco said. It sounded somewhat formal to Harry and his heart sunk a little. Perhaps he read too much into Draco? Maybe he wasn't as interested as Harry?

"I should be thanking you for being so entertaining and a great conversationalist. I hope to see you around sometime." The words felt bitter in Harry's mouth as if he were reciting a script.

Draco gave a nod and a small smile that didn't reach his eyes as Harry hoped and then he turned, walking off. Harry gave an audible sigh, feeling as if a stone had been placed in his chest and was now weighing down his heart. He checked his watch, noting that five minutes had already passed.

"Shit," he muttered and he went off to find the Minister.

_This night is sparkling, don't you let it go_

_I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home_

_I'll spend forever wondering if you knew_

_I was enchanted to meet you_

The speech had gone over without a hitch and now people were slowly beginning to leave. He hadn't seen Draco the rest of the night although he did spot Snape along with who he now knew to be Draco's father and a blonde woman in an elegantly draped light blue dress who he assumed to be Draco's mother.

Ron had slipped away some time ago with the French Minister's wife and Hermione was chatting with the head of her department at the ministry, the Department of Magical Archives, and he thought she secretly had a crush on him. Although there were fewer people, he felt that the air was stifling and he desperately needed to get away from the people who kept congratulating him on a "beautiful and heartfelt speech." Harry just smiled, not mentioning that Hermione had written it for him over a month ago.

Thankfully nobody was on the balcony and Harry wished he had that bottle of firewhiskey at the moment to dull his aching heart. He knew it was ridiculous to be so enchanted by someone he had met only once and had talked to for such a short period of time, but he knew it was true.

He looked forlornly over the vast property, the trees in the distance only massive dark spots in the night, except for a glow of bright orange and yellow some ways off. It was at this thought registered that Harry frowned. That was a fire. A fire that most definitely should not be on the property of the ministry ball. His heart leapt and he turned from the balcony swiftly exiting the ballroom.

Harry didn't want to get his hopes up, but as he got closer he knew for a fact that it was a fire and there was a lone figure standing by it. Pale hair was easily visible in the dark night and Harry couldn't help the grin that emerged on his face.

"Hey," said Harry once he was close enough to see that it was Draco. The blonde turned, surprise written across his face. Harry noticed that he had taken off his bowtie and had undone the first two buttons of his white shirt, revealing pale skin. A bottle of firewhiskey was held loosely in his right hand.

"Hello," said Draco. His voice was even, but it sounded unsure and surprised that Harry was there.

"Having a bonfire without me are you?" Harry stepped closer so that his features were more illuminated by the fire.

"Well, I found the ball rather dull and it didn't exactly reach the expectations I had in mind. I had to fix that and have my own private party."

The grin on Harry's face didn't fade and he moved so that he was directly in front of Draco. The blonde's face was flushed and Harry wasn't sure if it was due to the proximity of the fire or of Harry.

"Mind if I join?" Harry said softly.

"I was hoping you would. I don't think I could drink a whole bottle of firewhiskey by myself." Harry laughed, reaching out and settling his hand on Draco's waist causing the other man to step closer to Harry. "I don't have anything to burn and I'm not wearing robes, although I am naked underneath this tuxedo."

Harry reached forward, his hand cupping Draco's cheek. "That'll do just fine," he murmured before leaning in and kissing Draco on the lips. It was slow and soft, but filled with passion, just like the fire beside them crackling away in the night.

Harry heard a dull thump, realizing that Draco must have dropped the bottle of firewhiskey on the ground beside them. This was confirmed when arms were placed around his shoulders, pulling him in tighter.

When the kiss ended they leaned forward so that their foreheads were touching.

"So," Harry whispered, his breath mingling with Draco's heavy breathing. "How about we have our own private party now?"

Draco inclined his head to give Harry a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Sounds like my kind of ball," Draco replied.

Harry grinned looking into mirthful gray eyes before giving Draco another sound kiss. Maybe ministry balls weren't so bad after all.


End file.
